


Dick Sharpe and the School of Magic

by orphan_account



Category: Sharpe Series - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: 18th Century, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1772494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every child in the workhouse has a fantasy where someone comes to whisk them away to safety. Dick Sharpe's comes true, in a way he never could have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_21 July 1788_

Jem Hocking wasn’t pleased to let Dick off from work, but a proper lady – said her name was Hippodameia Greengrass, and only aristocrats had odd names like that – had shown up and demanded to see the boy. The man had offered to beat him for his crime at once, but the lady had gasped and glared at the idea.

Now Dick was facing her, and he was half in love at the sight of her – tall, beautiful with golden hair and blue eyes. He had never seen someone so clean close-up, and she looked like she had never seen someone so dirty this close either.

“You can leave,” she told Hocking in a cold voice. The master did, grumbling, and Miss Greengrass did not speak again until he had closed the door after him. “Richard – or do you prefer Dick?”

“Don’t mind, ma’am.”

She smiled gently. “Then Dick will serve. My name is Hippodameia Greengrass, and I am a professor at a school. Hogwarts. Your name is down for our coming school year, and we hope that you will attend. There is no cost, and you do not rely on the consent of your – of Mr Hocking. He is not your guardian, so I shall inform the headmistress that you have none.”

Dick had daydreamed about some relative coming to find him one day, saying he was their nephew and taking him away from here, but everyone had those dreams. None of them had ever been saved, and he knew he was the only one to be offered a place at a _school_.

“I can’t read, ma’am. Or anything else.”

“That can be fixed,” she said. “I will personally help you learn how, and I assure you, I am very clever.”

Dick nodded fiercely. To have an education was to have a future beyond becoming a climbing-boy, and he liked the idea of that. God only knew what kind of future he could have, but even a boy of ten or eleven knew that you needed to read and write to make something of yourself.

Miss Greengrass smiled warmly, and it was like the sun had come. “Do you have any belongings? – No. Then we can leave now. I will explain in depth once we reach Diagon Alley, and we can take rooms at the Leaky Cauldron for the night.”

“The Leaky Cauldron, ma’am?”

“It is an inn in Westminster. I would not consider it an elegant sort of place, but it is clean enough. And it has decent food. Its real significance is its historic value as a gateway rather than as an inn, in and of itself.” She stopped herself and said, “I will explain when we get there. – Well, I must tell Mr Hocking that we are leaving. You should say goodbye to your friends. I doubt you will see them for some time.”

Dick doubted he would see them again, and if he did, they would be too jealous to be happy for him.

He was leaving.


	2. Chapter 2

_21 July 1788_

Hippodameia Greengrass, whose brothers called her Sissy and whose friends called her Mia, had never taught a day before in her life. She had finished Hogwarts with the aspiration of becoming an Auror like her aunt Atalanta, but three years as an apprentice had disabused her of the notion that it was worth her while. Too much politics and paperwork. Even Aunt Atalanta approved when she applied for the Transfiguration post after John Naso announced his retirement at last.

Headmistress Yaxley had sent her to Wapping for Richard Sharpe. “Best get rid of any illusions you have about this job quickly,” she had said, and off Mia went. Her illusions had disappeared within seconds.

Now she had an eleven-year-old boy in her custody, and she had to explain magic to him and teach him to read and write. Mama always said she had an unfortunate impulsive streak.

The hackney-carriage stopped on Charing Cross, and Mia paid the coachman and helped Dick get down. The Leaky Cauldron would be shocking for him, but she couldn’t have explained everything in the hackney!

“Come on, Dick,” she said as gently as she could. “Lots to do.”

The hour’s hackney ride had amazed the boy, and now so did the Leaky Cauldron. A Monday afternoon was hardly a busy time, but there were enough people in strange clothes, about strange business, to shock a child raised by muggles.

“What –”

Mia cut him off. “Two rooms for the night, Madam Martin.”

The woman behind the bar gave Dick a look but nodded. Ventera Martin knew better than to question a paying customer. “I expect you’ll be wanting a warm bath too.”

“Yes, please, and a private parlour while we wait.”

“You want supper?”

Mia _did_ because Dick was too thin, but she didn’t want to make him ill by ordering something too rich. “Two bowls of stew and two flagons of ale.”

Dick listened to all this and then followed Mia and Ventera upstairs in silence. He waited until Ventera left them to ask, “What sort of school is it?”

“It’s a school of magic.” Mia whipped out her fir and unicorn hair wand. “ _Lumos!_ ” The Wand-Lighting Charm was new but practical, and it served as an example of what magic could do without overwhelming him. Mia would have to suggest it to the other professors.

Dick’s face showed nothing but awe. “Will I be able to do that?”

“Yes, and soon.” It was a simple spell. Mia could teach him it tomorrow after they got his wand, and it could help improve his confidence before he was the muggle-born bastard boy from Brewhouse Lane. “We will buy your wand tomorrow and the rest of your school supplies, and I can explain more. Ask me anything, and I promise to answer as well as I can.”

The door opened then, and a girl of fourteen came through with their suppers. Mia handed her a knut for her trouble, and she said, “Thank ye, ma’am.”


	3. Chapter 3

_22 July 1788_

The Leaky Cauldron was paradise. Everything was clean – the bed, the dishes, even Dick himself –, and no one expected Dick to do anything except mind Professor Greengrass and be kind to the staff, which he would do anyway. The maid, called Maggie Joyce, would be a fourth year at Hogwarts come September, and she didn’t mind answering questions.

“Suppose Greengrass is taking over Naso’s post,” she said in an Irish accent.

“Naso?”

“He taught Transfiguration, but he was so old he knew Christ himself. He was kind. The ones you need to look out for are Boswell and Nott. Hellspawn they are.”

Dick remembered the names.

“Gordon is alright, a bit daft though. He’s the one who fetched me from the foundling hospital where I was at, and he set me up with this job for summers. He teaches Herbology.”

“How many subjects are there?” _What are they? Are they hard?_ He had too many questions.

“Seven your first year. Charms, Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Astronomy, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic. You can take others your third year and more your sixth year, or so the older students say. I’m taking Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. It’s best to find out what the future holds, if only to prevent a nasty surprise.”

Dick nodded, but he didn’t understand what she meant.

“Do you think Professor Greengrass will find me a job?”

“Probably. Might be here, might be in Hogsmeade. That’s the village in Scotland, where everybody is a witch or a wizard. It’s not bad.”

Professor Greengrass came downstairs then. “Breakfast, excellent. I’ll have a plate, thank you, Maggie, and then we’re off. We have a lot to buy, and I have to get back to Hogwarts tonight to report in. I sent a letter last night, but it isn’t the same.”

“May I come with you?”

Professor Greengrass nodded. “Headmistress Yaxley will tell us what to do with you until school begins in September. Worse comes to worst and we can’t find a place for you, my uncle William lent me his cottage in Hogsmeade for the summer. He’s in China, studying dragons.”

“William?” Dick wondered how a family could produce a William _and_ a Hippodameia _._

She laughed. “The Greengrasses turn to Greek myths for their names, and the Abbotts prefer to use the most English names they can find. My mother’s name is Martha, and my father’s name is Polydamas.”

Maggie gave a low whistle, and Dick stared in amazement.

“Eat up. We have a busy day ahead of us, and I would like to get most of our shopping done before the crowds come. Everybody received their Hogwarts letter yesterday, after all.”

Dick had given the letter he couldn’t read back to Professor Greengrass, and she had promised that she would teach him how to read his letter first. It was the first object in the world that was _his_ , and listening to her read it was not the same at all.


	4. Chapter 4

_22 July 1788_

Professor Greengrass’s nose was almost touching the letter. “Uniform – books – wand – cauldron and phials and scale – telescope. You’ll need a trunk as well, but they never put that in the letters for some reason. Nor the writing supplies and potions ingredients, the fools. We should buy the trunk first to put all your supplies in it as we get them.”

“Where will we find all this?” Dick dodged a woman and her army of children.

“Here and there. Madam Tully for your robes and such, Flourish and Blotts for books, Ollivanders for your wand, of course.” She entered a shop and nodded at a worker. “We need a trunk for a Hogwarts student, larger on the inside and made of quality wood.”

“Madam, all our wood is of the _finest_ –”

“Tell it to someone who believes you.” She glanced around at the trunks on display. “That one. Let me look inside it first, but it seems to be the best-made.”

Clearly it was because she bought it, and she used coins Dick had never heard of to do so. She took out her stick – her _wand_ – and made the trunk float in front of them as they returned to the street. She took Dick to Madam Tully’s next and bought him more than his uniform because “you need clothes to wear outside of class!” Then, to the bookshop and to Potage’s for his cauldron and phials to put potions in; the apothecary for supplies to make potions; Amanuensis for quills, ink, and parchment; and Wiseacre for a telescope and scales.

“Now we must find you a wand!” she said cheerfully. This seemed to excite her the most. “Your wand is the most important tool a wizard can have. Each wand is unique, and the wand chooses the wizard that best suits it in character and inclination. You must take good care of it, and it will take care of you.”

“How is that possible?”

Professor Greengrass smiled. “ _Magic_.”

Dick supposed it was the best explanation what had happened to him in the past day.

“Here we are.”

Dick couldn’t read the faded, gilt letters in the shop window, but he did pause to admire the wand on a pillow. It wasn’t like pale, slender wand Professor Greengrass brandished, but it was nice all the same.

_I am going to have one of those all my own, and I will use it for magic_. He could only half-believe it after all he had seen. Part of him was convinced that he was ill and having a fever dream, and he would wake to discover that he was still at the Hockings’ with all the others. If he woke at all.

Professor Greengrass opened the door, and the bell rang. An old woman came out of nowhere and said, “Hippodameia Greengrass, fir and unicorn hair, ten inches.”

Professor Greengrass smiled nervously. “Yes, but I’m here for Richard Sharpe.”

The woman looked at him with unblinking grey eyes. “Well, let us see.”


	5. Chapter 5

_22 July 1788_

Dick believed Professor Greengrass about the importance of his wand because he believed whatever she said about the magical world, so he had begun to think that this whole world was mad. Madam Ollivander was – as was her method.

“Aspen and dragon heartstring, twelve inches and a quarter.”

It didn’t feel right, and Madam Ollivander evidently agreed because she grabbed it back and put another in his hand without pause.

“Willow and phoenix feather, ten inches.”

His fingers barely skimmed the wood before she pulled it back and returned it to the box. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he had another wand in his hands before he could.

“Yew and phoenix feather, eleven inches and three quarters.”

Dick held it long enough to confirm that nothing happened, and Madam Ollivander said “no, no” before she took it from him. In her chair, Professor Greengrass looked relieved.

“Redwood and unicorn hair, thirteen inches.”

Nothing but a vague pleasant feeling. Professor Greengrass sighed softly.

“Cypress and unicorn hair, ten inches and two thirds.”

“A tricky customer!” Madam Ollivander was pleased. “Ash and unicorn hair, eleven inches.”

Dick had barely taken it into his hand before Madam Ollivander shook her head and snatched it back.

“Larch and unicorn hair, ten and a half inches.”

Dick liked the feel of the larch wand, but neither Madam Ollivander nor Professor Greengrass seemed to be impressed by this. “You’ll know when it’s the right one,” Professor Greengrass said. “There is a feeling of rightness in the world. You can’t put it to words.”

Madam Ollivander agreed. “Red oak and phoenix feather, eleven inches.”

He had a similar good feeling from this wand, but he knew that wasn’t enough. He supposed that it was a sign that he would soon find the one, and he hoped it would be before nightfall if they were to reach Hogwarts tonight. Where was Hogwarts anyway?

“Cedar and dragon heartstring, twelve inches.”

There was yet again a pleasant feeling and the belief that this wand would do just as well as the red oak and the larch, but he handed it back after a short moment passed and nothing happened. Madam Ollivander set her jaw and handed him another one while Professor Greengrass shifted in her chair.

“Blackthorn and dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches.”

Dick took the wand in his hand, and he immediately knew that _this_ was his wand. It felt _right_ , and really, the burst of green sparks that came out the end of it only confirmed his belief. Professor Greengrass smiled, and Madam Ollivander nodded in approval.

“A fine wand,” she croaked.

Professor Greengrass beamed. “A warrior’s wand! They say that blackthorn will see you through many troubles and come out all the stronger for it.”

Madam Ollivander nodded. “True, very true. You’ll be a fine duellist in a few years’ time. – That will be seven galleons.”

Professor Greengrass paid, and Dick held his wand all the way to the Leaky Cauldron.


	6. Chapter 6

_22 July 1788_

Maggie was still working when they got back to the inn with Dick’s trunk and wand. “Find everything?” she asked with a grin. She admired the wand and told her own tale of meeting Madam Ollivander.

Professor Greengrass set a silver sickle on the bar and said, “We’ll be using your Floo, Maggie. – I look forward to having you in class. Hopefully I will equal Professor Naso.”

“You’ll do better if you can stay awake long enough to teach.”

Professor Greengrass laughed and took Dick to the fireplace. She stuck her hand in a pot and pulled out a fistful of silvery powder. “Travelling by Floo is one of the best ways to get around. Since this is your first time, we’ll go together. I throw the powder in and say the name of our destination clearly, and we walk through when the flames are green. Understand?”

He nodded.

She threw the Floo powder into the flames. “Hogwarts Castle!” They walked through with his trunk and wand, and he closed his eyes in fear. The flames didn’t touch him, though, and he opened his eyes to find that he was somewhere else.

Professor Greengrass was smiling. “Welcome to Hogwarts! She’ll be in her office.”

Professor Yaxley was an elderly woman wearing spectacles and an unpleasant expression. “Why did you bring this boy here, Professor Greengrass?”

“Mr Sharpe doesn’t have a guardian, madam. He is an orphan who was living in a foundling home, and I thought it best to remove him from that situation after he consented to attend Hogwarts. I know that, according to the Hogwarts Students’ Custody Act, the headmaster of Hogwarts is the authority whenever students need to be removed from unhappy situations.”

“That is true.” Headmistress Yaxley eyed him suspiciously. “There are no relatives?”

“None whatsoever,” Professor Greengrass said confidently. Even Dick wasn’t that confident.

The headmistress made a displeased sound. “He cannot stay here! Hogwarts is not a foundling hospital, and it is still the summer holiday. Find somewhere else, anywhere else.”

Professor Greengrass frowned. “He can stay with me until term starts, if you think it acceptable.”

“I do not care what becomes of him. Until September he is no concern of mine.”

The professor did not like the sound of that, but she said nothing about Headmistress Yaxley’s complete disinterest. “I am living in my uncle’s cottage in Hogsmeade this summer. You can find me there if you need me. If not, I will see you at our next meeting.”

“Why should I need to see you? – Leave. I have a letter from the Minister for Magic.”

Professor Greengrass left, and she took Dick with her. “Well, there you go!” she said in a cheerful way. “It will make matters easier for us if you stay with me. I can tutor you until September, and I will have to have a talk with the other professors about your schoolwork. There must be a precedent for illiterate students.”

“Really?” he asked quietly.

“Of course!”


	7. Chapter 7

_July-August 1788_

Uncle William’s cottage was much grander than any house Dick had seen before. It had two stories, and inside it was welcoming – well-made, warm, and filled with mementos from William Abbott’s travels. Dick had never been somewhere so lovely except the local church, and Reverend Carter didn’t like his lingering about.

Professor Greengrass cooked food Dick might have dreamed of having, and she taught him how to read and write, starting with his acceptance letter. He wasn’t good at it, but he thought he was getting better and she said so as well.

“You _will_ struggle this year,” she said with a small, apologetic smile, “but the other professors and I have put together a plan. You’ll have extra time when you take your exams, and Professor Mitchell – he’s the deputy headmaster – said he would find an older student to tutor you. Professor Nott and Professor Boswell aren’t very pleased, but they had to acknowledge that your situation is a challenging one.”

“Maggie said that they’re hellspawn.”

She flicked his arm. “You shouldn’t speak of your professors so. Speaking of Maggie, Professor Gordon said he came up a similar plan for a student a few years ago. I think it may have been her, but I would hesitate to spread it around regardless. No one likes a gossip.”

Dick promised to say nothing. “Do you know what House she’s in?” Professor Greengrass had explained the House system over supper a couple days ago, and she had said that she had been a Slytherin. He liked the idea of being in the same House she had been in, but she said Slytherins tended to dislike muggle-borns and that there was little chance of their being in the same House meaning anything now that she was a professor. (“Unless Nott retires and I take over as Head of House,” she added, but Professor Nott didn’t sound old.)

“She told me she was a Gryffindor when I asked her.”

Dick smiled but ducked his head to hide it. He wasn’t clever and wise or cunning and ambitious, and he didn’t know if he were loyal and hardworking or forced to be. But he thought he might be brave and bold, given half a chance to prove himself. He thought he might end up in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff anyway, and he hoped to be a Gryffindor now. It would be good to have someone he knew in the same House since they shared a table for meals as well as dormitories.

Professor Greengrass put away the tea things. “We should start going through your schoolbooks. If you go in familiar with them, it will help your schoolwork considerably. My mother would make us study our books thoroughly before each year, but you are lucky to have me instead of Martha Greengrass.”

“Is she dead?”

“No! She’s in Suffolk with the rest of my family – my father and my three brothers. I only borrowed the cottage because it made my affairs more convenient this summer.”


	8. Chapter 8

_1 September 1788_

There was no set way for students to reach Hogwarts, but first years had to be on the Hogsmeade docks by nightfall. Professor Greengrass walked him over about an hour before the sun set and left him in the hands of the groundskeeper, a tall, scarred man by the name of Crispin. “Goblin rebellion,” he said when a girl asked him where he got his scars. He grinned viciously, and her eyes widened.

A boy’s mouth dropped open. “Goblins and Trolls!” he murmured fearfully.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Dick said confidently. Professor Greengrass had dismissed his worry over the same beings with a wave of her hand, saying, “Oh they cause a bit of trouble now and again, but we are more than capable of handling them. Ask Professor Mitchell, he teaches History of Magic.”

The boy gave Dick a wavering smile. “My name is Thomas Clare. My father is a baron, and my mother is the daughter of a viscount.” He rattled off this information proudly because he guessed that this rough-looking boy didn’t have a background as exalted as his.

“I’m Dick Sharpe. My mother was a whore.” Professor Greengrass had not approved of his saying so ( _at least not in that manner, Dick!_ ), but it was true.

Clare wilted. “Is she dead? I – I am sorry to hear that.”

Dick had not expected a gentleman’s son to care whether his mother the whore was living or dead. “She died when I was three.”

“How unfortunate.” Clare summoned up another smile. “Thrilling, isn’t this all? I was to attend Eton until Professor Boswell came to explain magic to my father. I never imagined I was magical, but I had, of course, noticed that strange things happened around me.”

“Accidental magic is common amongst children,” Dick said. He could only remember a few incidents he now believed were caused by magic, but Professor Greengrass had told him that magic could be beaten down by unhappy circumstances sometimes.

“So I hear! – Is there a House you favour?”

“Gryffindor.”

Clare’s smile became genuine. “Me too! It sounds like the best by far, but I suppose that Ravenclaw is second. But Slytherin is the worst. I disapprove of skulduggery.”

“There are plenty of good Slytherins,” Dick said curtly. He didn’t like this silly boy insulting Professor Greengrass, even if he didn’t know her or that she was a Slytherin.

“Undoubtedly, undoubtedly.”

Clare was frightened of this tall, taciturn boy who was too thin and tanned to look like anybody that he knew. His accent was unfamiliar, and he gave off a dangerous air that no one had before in all his life.

He gave conversation another attempt. “Was your mother a witch?”

“No.” Dick generously added, “Professor Greengrass got me from the workhouse. I lived with her this summer, so I know about magic and Hogwarts.”

“More than I do,” Clare said.

“Yes.”

There was no harm in making friends with another boy, Tom decided, even if he _were_ a foundling.


	9. Chapter 9

_1 September 1788_

Crispin ushered them all into boats that seated four. Dick and Tom got in a boat with two girls called Sarah Pulcher and Ellen Barrymore. Ellen was a Yorkshire farmer’s daughter who had believed her education would only extend to basic literacy, and Sarah’s parents were a witch and wizard who worked for the Ministry of Magic.

“Both!” Tom was shocked.

Sarah gave him a quelling stare. “Witches and wizards don’t share muggles’ prejudices against women!” she exclaimed proudly, and Tom apologised. She softened and told them all that there might even be a female Minister for Magic soon. “Artemisia Lufkin is a rising political figure,” she recited.

Ellen’s eyes widened.

Dick added that half the staff at Hogwarts was female, and Tom and Ellen now believed that magic was a force of unlimited power. “Well, yes,” Sarah said with annoyance, but the four were on quite friendly terms by the time they reached the castle.

Professor Mitchell opened the door when Crispin knocked. “Good evening!” He was a cheerful, balding man who looked more like a country vicar than a wizard professor. “My name is Professor Mitchell, and I will be your History of Magic professor. I promise it is much less boring than you fear!”

There was some giggles.

“Come along now, and you will wait in an antechamber while we prepare ourselves for you in the Great Hall. It will be an excellent feast, and you will be amongst your Housemates for the first time. Make friends, and you will be happy for the next seven years of your life.” He excused himself to check on the preparations.

There were about a hundred students milling about in the antechamber now, and Dick glanced around. He was one of the tallest boys there, but that didn’t mean anything now that they could use _magic_ in fights. The odds were that _somebody_ would make fun of him for having trouble reading, and he couldn’t challenge them to a fight because he might lose.

He would have to study, and that was a strange thought to have.

Tom took a deep breath. “Frightening business!” he murmured.

Sarah scoffed, but she was as afraid as Tom was. “My brother was Sorted, and Lucian is the biggest fool in the world! We can manage it well enough.”

Ellen grinned weakly. “They wouldn’t make us do anything that might kill us, right? It will probably be a test or something.”

“It might be,” Dick said half-heartedly. He hoped not. He had managed to read his schoolbooks but only because he could read aloud and ask Professor Greengrass for help as she sat beside him, making her lesson plans or reading and writing letters. He couldn’t do that in front of the whole school!

The door opened again, and Professor Mitchell reappeared. “We’re ready for you now. Make two lines, _orderly_ lines that is, and march!”

Dick fell in next to Sarah and behind Tom and Ellen.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said.


	10. Chapter 10

_1 September 1788_

It was a hat – a _singing_ hat. Tom was relieved, Sarah, disgusted, and Ellen, amused. Dick was confused, for the most part. How had five hundred years pass by without someone revealing that you were Sorted by a hat that could _sing_?

“Bloody hell,” he muttered.

Sarah elbowed him as “Alderton, Cassandra” was called. “Language,” she said primly.

He rolled his eyes.

“Barrymore, Ellen” was the first of the four to be called to the front. The tattered, old hat slid down her forehead and covered most of her head except her mouth, nose, and honey-coloured braids. The hat roared out, “GRYFFINDOR!” after only a minute.

The table underneath the red banner with a golden lion clapped and cheered loudly.

Sarah stared wistfully as Ellen was greeted with thumps on the back and handshakes. “I would like to be Sorted into Gryffindor.”

“Me as well! And Dick,” Tom said from in front of them. People were being called up and sent to the different tables. Gryffindor was always loudest, but everyone clapped at least whenever the Hat sent a first year to their House.

Soon enough Professor Mitchell called “Clare, Thomas”, and Tom swallowed before heading to the Hat. He did not need to worry. The Hat didn’t even take as long as it did with Ellen, and he was soon sitting with her at the Gryffindor table, regaling her with the story of his Sorting as though she had not seen it herself.

Sarah was staring at the Hat without blinking. Dick grabbed her hand and squeezed. “We’re going to be in Gryffindor,” he said staunchly. “There isn’t another House that would suit us as well.”

She gave him a timorous smile. “I hope so. I would hate to be separated from Ellen after we became such good friends – and in such a short period of time too!”

Dick didn’t know how to respond to that. He tolerated Tom, but he wouldn’t call him a friend. Maybe they would become friends eventually, but not tonight. He rattled off the list of traits Professor Greengrass had given Gryffindor instead. “We’re bold, brave, and chivalrous,” he told her. “Gryffindors.”

He could see Professor Greengrass. She was watching the Sorting without much interest, clapping when each student was assigned their House, but she caught his eye and winked. It had to be boring to watch this every year, he realised, and she had only had three years without it before having to go through it again.

He was too anxious to be bored, though.

“Pulcher, Sarah!”

She lifted her head and strode towards that Hat. Professor Mitchell set it on her head, but he lifted it in only half a second as the Hat shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Dick clapped and realised the three students he knew in his year were all in Gryffindor. He had to be a Gryffindor too, or he would know no one. He’d be the illiterate waif with no friends.

“Sharpe, Richard!”

_Brave, bold, and chivalrous._ He walked forward.


	11. Chapter 11

_1 September 1788_

“Curious, curious,” the Hat murmured into his ear. “You have lived a life of hardship, Mr Sharpe, and it has shaped you – for better or for worse. That is not the question. The question is _where to put you_.”

 _Gryffindor?_ he thought. That Hat was on his head and seemed to be seeing his memories, so why not the rest of his thoughts? Regardless, Dick would rather his opinions go unheard than let Professor Mitchell overhear him talking to a hat, even if that hat could sing.

“It is a fine House with a long and noble history, but there _are_ three others.” The Hat sounded somewhat amused. “It is not the House that you suit but the House that suits you, that will shape the man you will one day become. Each one is a possible future, and it is my task to set you upon the path that will lead to the person you most wish to become, the man who will make you happiest.

“You are a faithful lad who wishes to join your newfound friends, hardworking by experience instead of due to your nature but hardworking all the same. Determined. You know and hate injustice. You might do well in Hufflepuff. But no. In Hufflepuff you would be an outsider in a House of friends. You are not given to an easy camaraderie, and Hufflepuff is not a House where you can thrive with a small group of friends.

“There is Ravenclaw of course, but you would do worse there. Intelligence has many forms, but yours is not the sort to be loved in the House of wise men and artists. They are the House of the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, and you will become a man of a different era where instinct and experience are as important as book-learning and artistry. No, not Ravenclaw.

“Slytherin would be excellent, yes. You have a thirst to prove yourself and an animal cunning, and you are loyal without hesitation to those you consider your friends. Yes, you would do very well in Slytherin – if it were not for the accident of your birth. Muggle-raised children sent to Slytherin have not done well these past hundred years. The International Statute of Secrecy has done the magical world few favours, I fear.

“It will have to be Gryffindor. You never shrink for fear, Mr Sharpe, and I doubt you ever will. You rise with every attempt to intimidate you, and one day your boldness might take you to even greater heights than we can imagine at this moment. Your native kindness has been bullied out of you, but it will return in full once you have time to recover. You are a protector by nature, a proper English knight. And knights belong in –

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Professor Mitchell swept the Hat off Dick’s head, and he walked over to where the Gryffindor table. He saw Sarah cheer, Tom clap, and Ellen squeal in delight.

“What took so long?” Sarah asked.

Dick shrugged.


End file.
